


Illusions and Lies

by UncrewedCandy29



Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 13:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11149611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UncrewedCandy29/pseuds/UncrewedCandy29
Summary: My take on how Prompto arrived in Insomnia.: One-shot. Canonverse AU :.





	Illusions and Lies

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story for my own entertainment and this is just a theory on how Prompto got to Insomnia. I had this story for a while in my head while waiting for 'Episode Prompto'

* * *

Seriously though… Thanks for making time for this loser

– _Prompto Argentum to Noctis Lucis Caelum_

* * *

 

Prompto Argentum could hardly remember the last time he had dreams. His sleep would usually be dreamless and yet recently he dreamed of his memories about when he was a child. The ones he had forgotten.

When he dreamed, it was as if he was looking through someone else's eyes – like a camera. He had no control of his movements.

It started out when he was captured by the Imperials. Ardyn had sent him a few nightmares. They were usually about his friends finding out about his lineage and they would cast him out like a trash. Sometimes Ignis would look at him in the eyes and glared daggers as he left him trapped in his cell. Sometimes it was Gladio that would look at him, his eyes burning with hatred as he moved to deliver a killing blow with his greatsword. Sometimes Noctis would push him off the train, his voice cold as he spoke, "The Niffs killed my father. So it is only right if I kill you."

It wasn't bad, really, at first.

Then it got worse as minutes passed by.

Ardyn played with his senses – his sanity. He could barely tell apart reality and illusions. Then he started to drift. Ever floating, never touching the ground. As he floated in the dark, his memories as a child flashed before his eyes.

Prompto escaped Niflheim at the tender age of one. He was trembling when his mother lead him to the edge of the city, near the train station. His hands were sweaty but his grip on her was strong. They reached the station and he saw a small group of people, dressed normally as they could. He recognized that some of them were scientists from the main building and two of them were the Imperial soldiers – judging by the weapons strapped to their body.

The blond turned to his mother and asked, "Where are we going?"

His mother turned to look at him, her features were hazy but he remembered the smile that she gave him. She kneeled in front of him and gave him a tight hug. Her cheek was wet, pressed against his. She pulled back and smiled – but Prompto could see a hint of sadness in the smile. "You're going on an adventure with these people."

"But what about you?"

Her hand brushed against his hair. "I can't go with you this time. Be safe, okay?" He nodded at this. "Listen to them and don't give them trouble." She tickled his stomach and made him laugh. Her smile grew slightly but then it receded. "I love you, Prompto."

His eyes twinkling with delight as his one year old mind was caught up with the prospect of an adventure. "I love you too, Mama."

Hours turned to days and days turned to weeks as Prompto spent his time with the five ex-Niff citizens. They sometimes provide stories such as myths and legends of Eos. Other times Prompto would be fascinated with whatever device they were tinkering. It was amazing to him how they managed to get scraps of metal – and other things he didn't recognize – into _things_.

The two former soldiers would sometimes teach him how to handle weapons. They taught him how to shoot and reload, how to hunt for food, how to fight – anything that would keep him alive.

But Prompto doesn't like violence. He hated to see people or even animals suffer. He only learned the basics of self defence, hoping that he would never use it.

It's a wonder, really, how he refused to be a vegetarian even though he hated slaughter. He does love meat more than anything.

Prompto was a ball of energy no matter how much they tried to keep him occupied. He would remain by their side, watching whatever they were doing. Other times, he would stare into the sunset at the end of their camp, safe within the protection of the haven.

The adults had reminded him not to venture away from the protection whenever night falls. As a curious child, he intended to find out what was beyond the camping haven. He lay in his sleeping bag as he waited for the others to enter their own tents. As he got the chance, he slipped out of his tent to begin his mini adventure.

With a flashlight in one hand, he held the knife he had stole from the place they kept the kitchen appliances. His hand trembled slightly but his grip was strong, his knuckles turned white. His heart was beating fast, threatening to burst from his chest. He was sweating slightly.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw something emerge from the ground – something _huge_. Prompto stared, eyes wide as that _thing_ stood at its full height. He felt like a tiny speck compared to the enormous body of the monster. The blade in its hand was big and covered in fire. The gold intricate tattoo on its red torso glowed in the dark.

He let out a quiet sob as it turned towards him. Its footsteps caused Prompto to fall on his backside. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at death. His breath laboured, his whole body trembled in fear.

Out of nowhere, a pair of hands pulled and carried him away from the gruesome monster, instinctively he wrapped his small arms around their neck – he must have dropped the flashlight and the knife in the process. In a distance he could hear the sound of gunfire and the clash of a sword hitting metal. They were shouting but he couldn't understand them.

He raised his head and immediately recognized the panicked violet eyes. It was Mika, the scientist that fed him stories of the six gods and she was the one who showed him how a camera works. She said something to him but his brain couldn't interpret it. It was like his sense of hearing had turned off.

Prompto was suddenly shoved into a small abandoned house not far from where he encountered the monster. He looked up from his position and Mika gave him a strained smile, whispering, "It's alright. Just stay in here quietly and don't come out until the sun comes out."

Obediently, he sat there, waiting for his travelling companions to come and get him. But none came for him when he woke up the next morning. Standing shakily, he went out of the house with the sun glaring at him. He turned to his right and began walking into the scorching hot desert.

He was hungry, thirsty, tired and his clothes were sticking to his body like a second skin. After he finds Mika and the rest, he's going to beg them for a long and hot shower.

That is if they forgive him for the stunt he pulled yesterday.

Just as Prompto was about to give up, he saw a pack of sabertusk in a distance, hunched over something. They looked like they were having a meal.

Not wanting to be their next meal, he circled around them until he saw the victim of the beasts. A bloodied arm band covered the wrist of the victim, the exact same arm band that covered the bar code on his left wrist.

Realization hit Prompto like a truck. He was the only survivor. He felt sick all of the sudden.

If Prompto hadn't snuck out in the middle of the night, they would all still be alive. The morning would have been filled with laughter and grumbling from a sleep deprived Mika despite their situation. The couple who followed them would still be wrapped up in each other's arms if he hadn't been that stupid.

Their blood was on his hands. He had unintentionally sent them to their deaths. He had killed them in the cruellest way possible.

Prompto chocked on air as he slowly moved backwards. Hot tears streaming down his cheek. The pain in his chest was growing, the guilt.

When the two Crownsguard found him later that day, in the mercy of the beasts, the woman had said, "We should take the boy with us. He has seen too much cruelty," to her companion as they finished off the last sabertusk.

Her male companion silenced her with a glare. "He is of Niflheim. They would detain him the moment he stepped into Insomnia and question him." He strapped the lance to his back. "Or worse, executed."

Her nose flared with anger. "The King would not condemn a boy. He is the same age as the prince!"

"Enough Liza," the man raised a hand. His brown eyes darkened. "If the Imperial soldiers found the prince, they would do the same."

"But we are not like the Empire," the woman reasoned calmly. "We are not cruel like they are. There are beasts and daemons out here. Without any protection he will die. Now, would you really condemn a boy?"

The male Crownsguard looked at Prompto then turned his gaze to his companion. "The gods would not forgive me if I did."

Then the next thing Prompto knew, he was standing in a large room with an intimidating sitting on an impressive throne and ten other people lined on either side of him, each looking at him impassively. The two Crownsguard who found him earlier stood behind him in silence.

Truth to be told, Prompto could hardly remember how the conversation went but he knew that they were discussing about him. It was too much that happened to him on the same day. It was just in the morning he had seen the bloodied corpse of his travelling companion getting eaten by sabertusks and now, he stood in the centre of attention, his clothes slightly torn, covered with sweat and dust.

And he smelt like he hadn't bathe in weeks.

He didn't know how long he had stood there. He wasn't even sure if they addressed him as he stood there in silence, his gaze remained to the ground, refusing to look at anyone. His body was there in the large room but his mind wondered elsewhere.

When he came back to his senses, the woman manoeuvred him out of the throne room. She had explained to him that he was placed under the custody of her companion because he had no surviving family in Insomnia – or anywhere else in that matter.

During the first few weeks in Insomnia, the male Crownsguard – his now adopted father, Izuna Argentum had barely seen him. Whether it was because of his new assignment or it was because the amount of hatred he had for Prompto and his _kind_. But on the positive side, his wife, Elena, was a kind and gentle woman – she reminded him of his mother – who owned a pet shop in the middle of the city.

Izuna Argentum on the other hand was serious, no-nonsense kind of man – his mother blamed it on being a Crownsguard. A single look from him could literally make you wet your pants; those dark brown eyes of him were ever calculating and stoic. Prompto could never know what was on his mind – Elena said his father was an open book like him. It made him think that Elena Argentum possessed some sort of super powers.

Or maybe she was used to seeing him on a daily basis.

He often followed his mother to the shop because he felt alone at home. Elena would come home late in the afternoon – she was the only one with the culinary skills in the house – and his father would only return home at night due to his job as a Crownsguard but Prompto never really know what _kind_ of job he was doing.

"He guards over the palace gates now, since he decided to take care of you," his mother told him once.

However, he doubted her words.

Soon he had forgotten about his past – the gruesome part of his life but the barcode on his wrist reminded him that he couldn't escape his past. His adopted parents had never asked anything about his past life despite the fact that his adopted father hates him – at least that's what he thought.

Prompto loved – and still does – his parents like any child would despite being adopted. He often wondered why his mother would sometimes look at him with such longing in her azure eyes. An emotion he couldn't place.

His father had the same look whenever he thought Prompto wasn't looking. But it came and went with a flick of an eye; it was almost as if he had imagined it. He was confident that it wasn't his imagination because it's impossible for him to forget that emotion.

Prompto wanted to please his mother and importantly his father. He wanted his father's acceptance.

He was barely fifteen when he and his father started to open up to each other. They finally let go of the ghost of the past haunting them.

"I had a kid before you," he told Prompto, puffing out the smoke. His mother would be giving him hell if she found out that his father was smoking in front of him. "He was a tad bit like you. Bright hair and eyes, a few years older than you. He was so small when he died. It felt like it was just yesterday he was born." Izuna's eyes went unfocused. "My job as a Crownsguard made it hard for me to spend time with him. It made me hate the world that the daemons killed him."

"If the daemons killed him, then why do you hate the Niffs?" _And me._

He snubbed the cigarette, turning his gaze to Prompto. "They were the ones who turned people into daemons. Experimenting." Prompto's face must have looked horrified when he continued. "You're a smart kid, Prompto. Smarter than kids your age. And because you're from the Empire. I think you should know this."

Prompto looked away and fiddled with the arm band that covered the mark of his origins. "I was supposed to be one of those soldiers wasn't I? That's why I escaped with the others."

The older man hummed in confirmation. "Elena thinks that you shouldn't know this until you're older – which is probably never," he said absently, "but I think you should know this because you're old enough to understand that you _are_ from the Empire and nothing could change that." Prompto stopped fiddling. "But the person you are now that matters most."

Prompto tugged the arm band, revealing the mark. "But if people knew that I'm one of them, they wouldn't hesitate to end me."

"Then learn how to defend yourself!" Izuna huffed and added quietly under his breath but Prompto heard it all the same. "Elena should really stop coddling you."

They both went quiet. "Will you teach me? How to defend myself, I mean."

"We can start tomorrow if you're up for it." Another silence. "Honestly, you're too young to shoulder this weight alone. You don't have to put up a facade with us. It's alright to share your burden with us –"

His tears welled up.

"– my son."

Just by hearing his father referring Prompto as his son – his mother was another story altogether – made him feel appreciated, glad that he had been born in this world despite being from Niflheim.

Things didn't change much after that apart from Izuna being fatherly to him and slowly Prompto opened up to the world. He started to befriend Noctis – after he had gotten rid of the fat in his body. His mother claimed both he and Noctis was too skinny and made it her job to fatten them up, again for Prompto.

Apparently, befriending Noctis meant dealing with a strict Gladio and you-should-behave-like-your-age Ignis. It also means that half the Crownsguard kept a close eye on him whenever he said so much as "Hey" to Noctis. His father only told him that he would be fine as long as he didn't do anything stupid and be respectful to them.

And of course, he took his father's warning to heart. He was well aware that every time he and Noctis wonder around the city without any escorts visible, there's always a Crownsguard or two trailed behind them, blending into the crown. He chose to ignore them, pretending to be ignorant. It happened the first few years when he became friends with Noctis then, they trust him that he won't turn him over to the Empire and Prompto genuinely just wnt to be friends with the only heir to the crown.

Not that Prompto would blame them. If the same thing happened to him, he would have done the same.

That was probably why they allowed him to go with Noctis to Altessia alongside Gladio and Ignis.

He was ecstatic when his father told him that he will be joining them on their trip. It had been long since he had seen the world behind those walls. Oh imagine the beautiful sights out there. And maybe, just _maybe_ Ignis would let him drive. The empty memory card in his camera would soon be filled with picture of their adventures. But why was there sadness hidden behind those brown eyes? Why did those azure eyes look so worried when he wore the Crownsguard fatigue, that was specifically designed for him, the morning before he left? _Why_ did his mother hugged him longer and tighter than normal? _Why_ did his father's grip almost felt like he was reluctant to let him go? Was something bad going to happen to _them_? _To him_?

* * *

It wasn't long for Prompto – and the others – to find out about what had happened to Insomnia. Immediately he tried to call his parents. His father did not answer because it was out of service. His body went cold. He tried calling his mother but when she didn't answer, he texted her. Maybe she was busy being evacuated with his father and the rest of the Crown City citizens.

They made a stop and decided to camp at Alostor Slough, when she finally replied and without any second thoughts he called her and went to the edge of the camp, ignoring the others. She answered within the third ring.

" _Prompto?_ " Elena answered.

The blond released his breath that he didn't know he was holding and shoulders hunched in relief. "Mom," he gasped. "Are you ok? Is dad with you? Where are you?"

" _I'm – we're fine_ ," she replied, her voice shaky and then she paused. " _Your dad is – he's sleeping._ "

"In the afternoon?" he chuckled softly under his breath.

" _We're not as young as we used to be_." Another silence. " _Don't worry about us. Your father would want you to focus on keeping you and your friends safe. Don't be afraid to rely on them._ " He could hear someone saying something in the background and his mother replying. " _I have to go. Will I see you in Lestallum?_ "

Prompto hummed in confirmation. "I'll see you and dad soon."

He was about to end the call but he heard his mother's soft voice. " _They won't judge you. Don't be afraid to tell them the truth._ " Prompto remained quiet as he stared into the darkness. " _Prompto?_ " she called again after he didn't answer her.

"Yeah?"

" _Remember that we love you, Prompto, don't spend a second otherwise_."

He squeezed his eyes shut and smiled softly. "I won't," he promised. "I love you too."

When the call ended, his hands hanged by his side but the grip on his phone only tightened. He recalled the last time his _birth_ mother said that to him and that was the only time he had seen her before he went out from Niflheim. Would the same happen to Elena, the person he had call Mom since he was one or his dad in that matter? Maybe something did happen to them and his mother was afraid that it would worry him. Parents after all have the tendency to lie to their children when something bad happened. To protect them.

Opening his eyes, he sighed and joined his friends, their voices filling the still night.

The day after they arrived in Lestallum, he went to the place where his mother was staying with a few other refugees from the Crown City. It made no sense to him why she decided to stay in Lestallum with his father. Surely the Empire would recognize his father if they decided to finish off the rest of the Crownsguard – or the Crown City refugees, in fact.

The moment he saw her face, he knew that his father did not make the journey to Lestallum. "They couldn't find him," she told him, a few tears escaping from her eyes. "They never found his body. They never found-" she broke off.

"Mom," was as that Prompto said before he reached out and held her close, his face buried in her shoulder. He suddenly felt like a child, crying in is mother's arms. She held him as he cling to her like he had done before as a child where he would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming in terror as the nightmares plagues him. Her voice cracked slightly when she sang a lullaby than soothed his crying.

As a child, Prompto had learned that war have torn people apart. War kills people and brings misery to the survivors. How many people had been sacrificed themselves for peace so that their children could avoid the gruesome life they had? If the war had ended, they would no longer require to look behind their back. They wouldn't need to keep their guard up.

The thing about war, both sides of the parties suffers just as much. The amount of casualties in the winning side is just as much as the losing side. But the ones who suffered the most are the survivors. After all that they had gone through, the hardest thing to do is moving on without their loved ones and their friends. Even so, they had to move on for their own good. The dead would have wanted them to live their fullest instead of clinging to the past.

After all, what good does clinging to the past do to a person?

"Your father thought me that fear is natural," his mother told him, pouring coffee into the cups. "It's a good instinct. Fear makes us do many things that we thought we couldn't. It drives us to move forward. He also said that you can decide what you are going to be afraid of. You _are_ human, Prompto. You write your own story. _Only you_ can determine who you are."

Prompto looked away, ashamed.

"So are you going to be afraid of telling them the truth?" she questioned him, peering into his line of sight. "Or are you afraid of keeping a secret that'll eat you up for the rest of you life?"

Prompto sighed, eyes glued to his feet. "But I'm afraid of their judgement. What if they hate me after knowing that I'm one of _them_? One of the people who destroyed their home." He paused. " _Your home_."

" _Our_ home, Prompto," she interjected. His sky blue eyes met her azure eyes. "You're one of us now. They won't judge you. Your loyalty lies with your friends and they are loyal to you as well. They are your brothers. They will never stab you in the back. Have faith in them – in yourself."

She kissed his cheek and they said their goodbyes. As Prompto begin his walk back to the hotel they were staying at, he turned to look at his mother and smiled. She smiled back at him, not knowing when they could see each other again. A single tear slid down her face went unnoticed by him, her heart gnawing with fear, and the safety of her little boy.

The four continued their journey for Noctis to reclaim his throne and end the suffering of his people, including Elena. He remained quiet for most of their journey. He kept his feeling bottled up, refusing to break. The weight on his shoulders became heavier as Ardyn played with them as if they were his personal puppets.

Eventually, his world came crumbling down when Noctis looked at him with such anger in his features. His eyes narrowing as he spoke his hatred towards him. _He's under an illusion_ , Prompto reminded himself as Noctis took down an Imperial Soldier who nearly chopped his head.

Would his friends hate him if he told them of his origin? Or should he continue to lie?

He snapped back into reality when he heard found himself standing in front of an impressive door. "Locked," Noctis explained, arms crossed. Ignis stood a few feet away from him, the hand on his walking stick gripped tightly, thinking of ways to open the door. Gladio narrowed his eyes looking for a small opening that Noct had missed.

Prompto remained quiet, standing not far away from the group. He was fiddling with the black wristband. They key to opening the large door that stored their weapons. He closed his eyes, debating with himself to reveal his secret, drawing a line between them. Fear began to creep up on him. What if they left him in the mercy of deamons? What if the illusions that Ardyn showed him became a reality?

" _Honestly, you're too young to shoulder this weight alone. You don't have to put up a facade with us. It's alright to share your burden with us, my son."_

" _They won't judge you. Don't be afraid to tell them the truth."_

Their words jolted him. His father was right. His mother was right. The burden on his shoulders was weighting him down – no, them down. He felt ashamed of his faith on his friends. He should have known his friends better than Ardyn that they would do no harm on them. They would never turn their back on him. Prompto had earned their trust and it is only fair he returned them in the same manner.

Ardyn was no longer controlling him with illusions, feeding him with lies that will never happen. He was real. His friends are real; Noctis, Gladio, Ignis. He was done with lying to his friends, to the world and himself.

He could see his mothers – both birth and adopted mother – smiling as they looked at him with pride in their eyes. His father, Izuna, gave him a small smile. His brown eyes soften at the sight of him but his eyes spoke volume.

Prompto opened his eyes and he could finally see things pass through the illusions and lies. Gathering his courage, he opened his mouth and told his close and only friends the truth.

_No more lies._

**Author's Note:**

> There is actually a condition where people will always remember what they did their whole lives. They can never forget anything. But this condition is very rare. I thought that it would be interesting if Prompto had this condition.


End file.
